But I’d never packed an overnight bag and left my previous outfit in the changing room. If I’d headed to Gil’s place, I would’ve ended up without clothes once I’d washed off his latest creation.

I’d only meant to pop home for five minutes.

I hadn’t expected to find the aura of evil still lurking in my safe zone. And I definitely hadn’t been prepared to find yet more police on my doorstep after watching Gil being carted away only an hour before.

It’s a busy day for them.

Appearing unannounced and ruining both our lives.

“We wanted to follow up with you about your report on the man who tried to kidnap you.”

“Oh.” I forced myself not to look at the clock with impatience. “Okay. What can I help you with?”

“The license plate number you gave us is incorrect.” The woman narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve remembered it wrong.”

“And you’re sure it was a white van with blue stripes?” The male officer came forward, encroaching on my space. “Because nothing checks out. No other reports. No suspicious sightings. It wasn’t another colour, and you remembered that wrong, too?”

Standing taller, I did my best to seem unfrazzled. My lack of lying ability almost crippled me. If I didn’t get them away soon, I’d slip. I’d stumble on a lie, and Gil would be sentenced to life because of something idiotic I said.

“No, I remember the van. But you’re right. I’m obviously not reliable in my recollections.” I crossed my arms. “Besides, you ought to know better than me. That’s your job, after all.”

The cops threw each other a glance.

The female officer sighed at my unhelpfulness. “Regardless, we believe the man who tried to abduct you might be involved with the recent murders.” She eyed up my body paint again. “They were painted...like you. We were hoping your memory might be better refreshed today. Give us new information that could aid us.”

“Better refreshed?”

“No audience, as it were.” Her gaze gleamed with an obvious hint. “Free to say what you want.”

“You think I kept things to myself because I was with Gilbert last time?”

“Speaking of Mr. Clark. Where is your boss?” the guy jumped in.

I narrowed my eyes, answering his question and ignoring the rest. “At Status Enterprises. Behind a desk.”

“Your other boss.” His voice tightened with frustration. “Gilbert Clark.”

What was the right answer here? Tell them I didn’t know or that he’d been shoved into a police car? Then again, I couldn’t exactly say I hadn’t seen him, seeing as I wore his brushstrokes. “We just finished a commission for Kohls department store. He was invited to help the police about the body paint used on the murdered girls.”

There, that sounded good and not guilty at all.

“Do you believe he could be involved?” The woman walked around me, her eyes never still as she took in my messy apartment.

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?” She circled me again, her buttons flashing on her uniform. “He’s a body painter—same as the murderer. He has no alibi for the days the girls went missing.”

I scowled. “How do you know he has no alibi?”

“We can’t disclose that information, miss,” the male cop muttered. “What we are interested in is your opinion. Can you shed any light on Mr. Clark’s recent whereabouts? Did he go missing for a time? Do anything out of the ordinary?”

My throat closed up.

He went missing.

He came back filthy, bloody, and speckled in paint.

He drank himself into a stupor for something he did.

My kneecaps danced with nerves as I stared him right in the eyes. “He’s my boss. What he does with his free time is none of my concern.”

The female cop smirked. “You entertain much, Olin?” She pointed at the two forks in the sink and the two glasses on the coffee table.

“None of your business.”

She smiled and didn’t reply.

I’d just walked into her trap, and I didn’t fully understand how.

“If that’s all...I really need to shower and—”

“How well do you know Gilbert Clark?” the female interrupted rudely.

I mulled over my answer. What would be better? Admit I was in love with him or lie and say our relationship was strictly professional.

My heart picked up its pace, drowning in fibs.

“Well?” She placed her hands on her hips. Somehow, I knew she waited to catch me in a lie. They’d found out where I lived without me telling them my address. They had records and ways of finding out stuff. That was their job—to uncover the truth.

Letting my arms drop, I allowed honesty to answer for me. “Gil and I go back to high-school—like I told you last time. We dated when we were younger.” Even I heard the historical pain in my voice as I added, “We broke up and went our separate ways. I found him again purely by chance, thanks to a job advertisement.” I held up my arm, revealing the green exoticness of my flesh. “A job to be a living canvas.”

“Interesting.” She nodded, her eyes gleaming. “And you can work together amicably after a teenage breakup?”

“It’s in the past. It means nothing.”

“How would you describe Gilbert Clark at school?” The man opened his notepad, a pen hovering over the pages. “Quiet? Hard-working? What was his family life like?”

Anger rose, followed swiftly by the undeniable need to protect Gil.

His family life would always work against him. Always make people judge—make them believe he was capable of atrocities because that was what he was born into.

“I think you should figure that out for yourself.” I nudged my chin at the door. “Now, if you don’t mind. I really must—”

“People change, Miss Moss.” The woman once again cut me off. “What you think you know about your high-school fling might be hiding the truth staring right in your face.”

I grimaced. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying be careful.” For once, her eyes softened with kindness rather than condemning me with accusation. “Monsters walk amongst us. They wear the same skin. They just hide who they are. Almost like the paint that’s hiding you.”

She paused as if her speech was all I needed to confess everything.

I sniffed and waited out the silence.

“Okay, then.” The two officers moved toward the exit.

The male nodded and stepped into the hallway while the female paused and passed me her card again. “If you happen to recall the correct license plate or want to change your statement, call me.”

I took her card and shoved it deep into my robe’s pocket. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” With a smile I couldn’t decipher, she added, “I wouldn’t trust him, Miss Moss. A man who earns money by turning others into a chameleon might also be a chameleon himself. Three girls have lost their lives. Don’t lose yours, too.”

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Thirty-One

______________________________

Gil

-The Past-

I’D BEEN LIVING in hell.

The past two days had torn out my heart and made me beg for a solution.

The breakup at school was meant to be fake, but somehow, it had become entirely too real. I needed to take it back. To explain. But the more time that passed, the more horrendously true it became.

“You’re never to speak to Olin again.”

Ms Tallup’s threat repeated incessantly in my brain.

That ultimatum was harder to swallow than knowing what she wanted from me. It made my stomach churn with corrosive acid; nervous anxiety wrapped a noose around my throat.

I had to talk to Olin.

I had to see her, touch her, love her.

If I couldn’t have Olin...shit, life wasn’t worth the pain it cost to live.

Despite Tallup’s threat, I’d stumbled over to Olin’s the moment I’d left school on Friday. I’d stood on her stoop with tears in my eyes and a broken fucking heart in my hands, trying to get up the guts to ring her doorbell and apologise.